Hero and Humanity
by the bird of the chapel
Summary: [FSN / Fifth Holy Grail War / Canon Divergence] Emiya Kiritsugu was cursed to die a painful death filled with regrets. The time for that moment was farther in the future, when he would stand powerless to the job that he left unfinished in the Fourth Holy Grail War.


**A/N: **Didn't polish this because I'm lazy and just want to get this fanfic out because I need more Kiritsugu being alive in the Fifth Holy Grail War.

* * *

**Chapter I: Kiritsugu Comes Home**

The pocketknife was about two inches long with a spray of rust along the edge. It didn't seem that old based on the color of the wood of the handle. The curve fit naturally on his palm and the blade reflected his copper eyes. They closed as he took in a deep breath and concentrated.

"Trace on."

Rays of the sunset shone down from the single window of the shed, the rest in semi-darkness. A boy of ten sat quietly cross-legged on the floor before a spread of small items on a sheet of cloth. After a hard minute of quiet frustration, the boy made a noise of annoyance.

"Trace on."

In the semi-darkness, light emitted from the knife.

Reading its properties, understanding its components. The boy mumbled to himself, still concentrating intently. He was going to make this knife sharp again. By pouring out his mana…

He had gotten much better at it in the last few weeks. Maybe too well.

The light suddenly died as the tip of the blade snapped with force. Surprised, the boy pushed the knife away. It fell among the items on the cloth after the broken tip flew into his peripheral vision. He gingerly touched his cheek and easily found the bleeding cut.

Kiritsugu was going to scold him.

He shut the sliding door behind him and proceeded to walk across the untended backyard and into the engawa nearest to him. After slipping back into indoor slippers, the boy travelled past faded panels of rooms and returned inside the house.

The corridor that met him was long, empty and wide, slightly lit by the sunset sieving through the paper paneling. His slippers were noiseless as he crossed the wooden flooring. The ceiling above him towered high with cheap, iridescent lightbulbs.

Just as he was about to enter the kitchen where the first-aid kid probably was, the phone rang like a blare in the deadened quietness of the house. But the boy, not at all startled, was used to it. He took a turn to the entrance hallway to answer it. It was most likely Fuji-nee.

"Hello. This is the Emiya residence."

"_Shirou, it's me!" _

"Hey, Fuji-nee."

"_Sorry, I can't drop by today! I got dragged by a friend to the karaoke. Will you be okay tonight? I can ask my uncle to go there. You remember Souji? I'm sure Kiritsugu wouldn't mind. It's his fault for having all these mysterious business trips abroad."_

Business trips, huh. Well, that was what an ordinary person would assume, Shirou supposed. Kiritsugu left Shirou with the usual tired smile, but it was accompanied by grave words that had deeper purpose.

"I'll be fine, Fuji-nee. You don't need to do anything."

"_Hmm, okay! If you say so. But I'll be there early to pick you up tomorrow!"_

"Don't you mean you'll be here to eat breakfast?"

"_That too!"_

"Okay. I'll cook for three people tomorrow."

"_Three? Is Kiritsugu coming back tonight?"_

"Probably not. But he does forget to call sometimes."

"_No worries! I'll have seconds tomorrow if he's not there!"_

"You don't have to…"

"_But I want to!"_

Shirou scratched his head. "I got you. Is that all? Aren't you calling from your phone?"

"_Hey, they probably wouldn't mind if you come along."_

Shirou made a face. "Pass."

"_Thought you'd say that. You're a weird boy! What kind of middle school student doesn't want to hang out with a bunch of high school girls?"_

If he answered that, Fuji-nee would try to convince him to go. "I have to go to the toilet. I'll see you tomorrow."

"_Okay, bye-bye! I look forward to your cooking again!"_

"Bye."

When Shirou put the phone down, he was taken aback with panic. There was blood on the back of his hand! Just how bad was that cut? Shirou hurried to the first-aid kid, starting to fear at the back of his mind that he might need stitches.

It should be fine, he tried to insist to himself, digging into the box. He was just overreacting. Shirou tipped the bottle of antiseptic on the cotton ball and dabbed it on the wound in front of the bathroom mirror. It didn't sting at all, so it was probably a shallow cut after all. Still, he wouldn't be able to hide this from Kiritsugu. He was sure to get questions in school too.

After applying a gauze on his cheek, Shirou set out to do his evening tasks. It was too early for dinner, but he didn't feel like going back to the shed and continue practicing. Today was a big bust.

Shirou pulled the vegetables out of the refrigerator. He'd already prepared the beef to defrost. He stepped atop the stool and started chopping, elbow raised and wrist sliding. Each chop was slow but steady, and Shirou performed with focus.

He cooked the beef on boiling oil, flipping them with chopsticks. He watched them cook, listening to the light sizzling of the beef.

Shirou ate from the left side of a table for six. He'd turned on the lights as the sun had already gone down.

He cleaned the dishes. Then, he dried his hands and stowed the stool in the sink cabinet.

Shirou turned off the lights.

He took a hot bath, staring at the opposite wall in front of him.

Shirou dressed in yukata and turned off the lights.

He opened the closet and, digging his arms around the futon, heaved it out. He set it on the floor and stared at it in thought.

"It's too early to sleep…"

Shirou turned off the lights and slept.

* * *

Shirou opened his eyes to the darkness, waking up. He rose from under the blanket, turning his head at the door.

"Kiritsugu?" called Shirou, stepping into the corridor. Light was coming from the entrance.

Shirou walked barefooted in the dark. He could hear Kiritsugu's faint voice talking to someone. It must be late since he was keeping his voice down.

At the front of the main door sat Kiritsugu, his hunched back turned to Shirou. He was still in his jet-black coat, which must be boiling him since it was the start of summer. Kiritsugu abruptly stopped in mid-sentence, having sensed Shirou. His head turned, looking surprised.

"Oh, Shirou. I guess this is good timing."

"Welcome back," said Shirou.

Kiritsugu chuckled. "Right. I'm home. Well, anyway." Kiritsugu's eyes were shifting to something in front of him.

"You didn't call," Shirou pointed out.

"Sorry," said Kiritsugu with a smile. "I'll explain everything tomorrow. For now, I want you to meet Illya." With great difficulty, Kiritsugu stood up. His legs partially failed him, causing him to fall on the wall for support. With Kiritsugu's form out of the way, Shirou could see who he had been talking to. A little girl wrapped in an oversized green jacket stood beside Kiritsugu's luggage, which she was barely the size of. Her hair was white and her eyes, looking emptily into the air, were red.

"She's your sister. Illya, this is Shirou," – Kiritsugu made an effort to crouch down just to place a hand on her shoulder – "your brother."

"Is she hurt?" asked Shirou, noticing the bandages around her head and legs.

An unreadable expression fell into Kiritsugu's face. "Mm. Shirou," he turned to him. "I'll be taking care of you and Illya from now on."

Kiritsugu's legs gave in under him. He sat back down, exhausted and in pain.

"Shirou, come over here."

"Huh? Why?" Despite asking first, Shirou obliged and walked closer.

As soon as Shirou was within reach, Kiritsugu wrapped his arms around him and Illya and pulled them to his chest. Caught off-guard, Shirou stumbled forward and flailed. Illya, he saw, barely moved and her gaze remained still and indifferent. She was so still Shirou wondered if she breathed.

"I'm so happy," whispered Kiritsugu, combing their hair with his fingers. "If God exists…"

Shirou looked up at Kiritsugu's face, so close to his. The magus was smiling with all traces of pain vanished. Shirou had seen that look before. It was a height of happiness he never thought was possible. He had gleaned it from a deep pit, shining from a state of impossibility. It made Shirou's heart tremble, a face that moved him to tears.

* * *

Breakfast had already been prepared on the table, but only a worried Shirou was around. He checked on his dad again, who had promised he would follow shortly.

When he got to Kiritsugu's room, he was still resting in his futon. Shirou hadn't been insistent for him to move, but he was conscious earlier and caught Shirou checking on him. Kiritsugu always joined breakfast despite how difficult it had been for him, but last night must have put a toll on him.

Just as he was about to leave him be and check back on Illya, Kiritsugu woke up.

"Oh, Shirou. Sorry." Kiritsugu held his face tiredly. "I'm up, I'm up. Breakfast is already set, isn't it?"

"Yeah…" Kiritsugu really looked worn out. Shirou doubted it was just because of the trip. "I can bring you your food."

"No, I'm fine. I can't miss out on our first meal together as a family of three."

"'Together…'" Shirou was once again concerned.

Kiritsugu gathered his futon and noticed Shirou's expression. "What's wrong? Isn't Illya up yet?"

"She's still asleep. But she's… She hadn't moved and slept right beside the futon."

Kiritsugu didn't seem that concerned. "She must be tired. I guess it will just be the two of us."

They heard the doorbell buzz.

"It's Fuji-nee," said Shirou.

"No," said Kiritsugu suddenly. "I'll answer the door. Can you check on Illya again?"

Shirou followed Kiritsugu's sluggish movement to the door with his eyes. "Okay."

Something that was most likely related to Kiritsugu being a magus must have gone down. Kiritsugu had promised to explain everything, but Shirou couldn't help but conclude a few things based on Kiritsugu's constant trips abroad and this mysterious sister Shirou suddenly acquired.

Shirou slid open the door to Illya's room and peeked inside. The balled form beside the futon was no longer there. "Illya?" he called out. He opened the door all the way through and found Illya standing at the corner. She took notice of Shirou's presence for the first time. Their eyes met.

"I don't care," said Illya to Shirou.

Shirou was too surprised to say anything.

"I'm going home."

"Oh…" It was just as Shirou thought. All those trips abroad must have been related to child custody. Not that Kiritsugu ever mentioned – or hinted – having a family before. But why else would he suddenly come home with a kid? "Do you want to eat breakfast first? Dad is awake."

Those still and indifferent eyes from last time frowned at Shirou. "I don't need that man's help. Grandpa will come for me."

Yikes. Their relationship seemed terrible.

"By 'grandpa,' do you mean Kiritsugu's dad?" Never mind about having a family, Kiritsugu never talked about family at all.

"No!" said Illya angrily, stomping her foot. "I have nothing to do with that man!"

Though the matter was personal between Illya and Kiritsugu, Shirou had to admit that it made him a bit uncomfortable for a little girl to act with unbridled hostility.

"I understand, Illya. I mean, I don't really get what went on between you two… But for now, let's eat, okay? I'm the one who cooked breakfast, so you don't need to feel like you owe Kiritsugu anything. Heck, he never does anything around the house."

Illya glared at him stubbornly. "I'm not eating."

"Come on…" Shirou placed a hand on his hip. "A growing girl shouldn't be skipping meals."

"Hey." Illya was frigid, but her eyes were burning. "You're starting to really annoy me."

Shirou's mouth dropped. His new sister was terrifying, but the fact that she was trying to intimidate him (and succeeded) was just rude. Did this girl not have respect to those older than her?

"What are you standing on the door for, Shirou?" asked Kiritsugu, appearing behind him. Noticing Illya, Kiritsugu dragged something into her view. "Illya, here are your clothes. If you're feeling well, you can come with us and eat breakfast."

"She doesn't want to," said Shirou, almost sounding like he was telling on her.

"Hm? Why not?"

For all the contempt Illya had earlier, she was suddenly very secretive and quiet about it, offering not a hint of reaction to Kiritsugu. Kiritsugu, meanwhile, was impassive at best.

Kiritsugu entered Illya's room. Even as he drew close, Illya did not move or look at him. Slowly, Kiritsugu went down on one knee, looking at Illya in the eyes.

"Illya, Dad can't help you if you don't say anything. But I won't force you if you don't want to. Just know that Dad – " Without hesitation, Kiritsugu embraced his daughter, "— loves you very much."

Illya didn't stay still and motionless like last night, but she stayed just as silent. Kiritsugu could feel her slight trembles as she stayed loyal to her silence. The sight of the father-and-daughter pained Shirou.

From what Shirou could see, Illya was shaking from rage.


End file.
